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BZPRPG - Kini Nui


Nuju Metru

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IC

 

'I doubt it. The Maru may have done the island a service in ridding a terrorizer who has been harassing us with Rahi, Rahkshi, dark Toa and worst of all, Heuani.'

 

After a short curve, JL saw a bright light in front. Normally it wasn't really bright, but having spent some time in the dark, the sudden contrast made him flinch a little.

 

'There's our exit.'

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BZPRPG Profiles 2013

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IC

 

'Kinda like chrome water battles. Nowadays its nothing special; since the days of the fall of the Mata the great spirit has apparently been trying to bring more heroes to the island. Some were native. Others came from capsules as well.'

 

Slowly, he stepped up, walking towards and climbing the stairs that led out of the Suva Nui into the forest.

 

'And here was where the Toa Maru turned from matoran into Toa.'

 

OOC: JL to Le-Wahi.

Edited by JL v2

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BZPRPG Profiles 2013

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IC: Bok

 

"JL, I showed up shortly before the Rahkshi battle. I know basic island history. Well that was a fun day, but I think I'm going to pop over to Ga-Koro and pay a friend a visit. See ya!"

 

OOC: Bok to Ga-Wahi Everyone else to wherever they feel like going. Kini Nui is in the middle of the island.

Edited by ToaKapura1234

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http://www.bzpower.com/board/topic/19274-murder-mansion/?do=findComment&comment=964351

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  • 2 weeks later...

OOC: Psst! Hey! Mairanui! Did you know that when a person is occupied fighting something that may or may not be 3 or more times his own power, they usually can't enjoy the leisure of a nice, long chat?Just putting it out there!And yeah, you undid my attack against myself, removing mention of it in your post. It's fine, though.

 

IC: Aurum

 

Always thinking about themselves. Pricks.

 

'Since when did I try to kill you?'

OOC: Yeah. I'm thinking about quitting the BZPRPG. It seems that I can't tie in, or can't get anything right.

 

IC: Tafu

 

Tafu remained crouching behind the rock, well aware that the Toa had resumed fighting and was not paying any attention to the matoran. He couldn't blame them; he would be the first to admit that he talked too much and was quite annoying.

Edited by Mairanui

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OOC: Jam with me and Mr. Peanuts.IC: Gaargl & Mars & ??? (Le-koro Dark Walk)Hunger. Darkness. Hunger. Pain. The arm was at it again--another week and he might not be able to use it at all. If he had that long.No. Do not think in that manner. There is only life. There is only survival.The Po-Lesterin reached into his pack, but found only crumbs. He licked them hungrily from his fingers, before the sound of clattering stone made him whirl around. "What--? Ah!" He shoved his left arm into his mouth, biting down to distract himself from the pain he'd caused himself. He mentally cursed himself for his foolishness. It is dangerous enough down here without giving away your position. He was not adept at stealth, but life in the tunnels did not favor those who failed to even try.Gaargl looked around, but saw nothing. What I wouldn't give for a Ruru. Or better yet, someone wearing one. Six months without any intelligent contact--well, if one didn't count the Rahkshi. Gaargl didn't; contact with them was not, after all, the intelligent sort, and he had tried to avoid it as much as he could. Still, he couldn't help but notice their numbers increasing after he found himself entering the larger tunnels, along with the number of subterranean Rahi--mostly wounded, but that just meant the dangerous ones made less of a threat and the non-dangerous ones easier prey.Today, though, he had seen three, and as far as he was concerned, that was three too many. He sincerely hoped that the number was not about to increase to four.His hope was in vain. A distinctive hiss grew louder, and Gaargl began backing towards the tunnel wall. Feeling the comforting sensation of his hand against the stone, he edged left--the direction he had been traveling before he heard the noise--and hoped the Rahkshi would miss him in the dark. He squinted his eyes, as much to reduce their visibility as to avoid seeing those of the Rahkshi.The next moment three things happened: first, Gaargl's left foot came down on a loose stone, which shot out from under him with a loud clatter; second, the Po-Lesterin went down with a cry, his knee crying out in pain; third, the Rahkshi spun to face him, its all-too-familiar silhouette framed in the glint of a light behind it--Wait, glint of light?!?The silhouette's sinuous body flitted towards Gaargl without a sound, furtive to a fault; in spite of the lightstone it carried, he found its dull color and slow manner to nearly dispel his gaze without concentration. Two ice-blue points of light promptly affixed their stare to his face. Now pinning his eyes to their kanohi, Gaargl could begin to examine the being before him."Name, race, rank, status," The silhouette whispered, greeting the Lesterin in the traditional military manner.Gaargl feebly scuttled a short distance away, trying to put distance between him and his assailant, but his wounded limbs didn't take him far. He curled his arms and legs up in a defensive position for several long seconds--in his panic, it took him a few seconds to realize that the being hadn't killed him yet, and that it had actually spoken. He opened his mouth to speak, but it took a few tries before his voice would work. Fortunately for his later pride, the other being could not see this through his face-concealing helm. "Gaargl. Lesterin." He swallowed, then coughed, his throat dry from lack of water. "Second-in-command of--well. Doesn't matter. They're all dead anyway." He shakily climbed to his feet, leaning heavily on the wall for support. "Status--"HIIISSSSSSSSSSSS...Gaargl tried to drop into a ready crouch, but just ended up losing his balance again. He instinctively lurched toward the mysterious figure for support--Oh, good one, lunge for the suspicious, possibly-armed stranger!--but whether fortunately or unfortunately, he fell short.Gaargl's voice came out in a rasping, hoarse whisper. "Please. I've been lost down here for who knows how long, and I've already seen three Rahkshi today. I can't fight, I don't even have my proper weapons, all I've got is--" Gaargl's hand touches his staff, and the hissing comes to a sudden and conspicuous stop. He looks around, wondering what had just happened.------------The creature looked on with interest. Two now. But prey? Or something else? Something more? A chill ran down its back, quickly suppressed. It skulked further back into the shadows, still watching...Always waiting.------------The figure slipped its hand around Gaargl's, feeling its form and running over its contours as it analyzed his existence. It stepped back. With the slightest hiss of expelled air, it hauled him to his feet. He caught a glimpse of a drab, mildly feminine Kaukau and soon heard a name to go along with the face."Mars, Le-Matoran, Gukko Force," The assassin rattled off. She peered up at the gaunt Lesterin through light blue eyes. "Tracking a Rahkshi within this Dark Walk. Care to explain your own situation, mahi?"Her hands hung loosely at her sides in an inconspicious configurement of limbs. In this stance, poised on the balls of her feet and hands centimeters away from her tomahawks' hidden sheathes, the special operative was prepared. Mars had heard a bump in the perpetual night of the cave, and true to form, she was ready to draw her blades and fall upon it. She would ally with this Lesterin and terminate the vermin nearby. All she required was the opportune moment to strike--easily provided by the lure of two distracted sapients--and she would be able to achieve the latter. So she stalled with words lacking import as she mentally calmed before the storm, watching and waiting.Mahi? Dark Walk? Just how long have I been down here? "I've been trapped down here for a long time. Months. Trapped in a cave-in, had nothing to do but dig myself out. My team is dead. I'm injured, badly. All I have left is this staff." Gaargl unlimbers his staff, leans heavily upon it, and activates its power, closing his eyes in deep concentration. The device thrums softly, and the Lesterin points out a crack in his leg armor that slowly begins mending itself. The edges of the rest of his armor begin growing at a slow but irregular pace, and tiny spurs of metal seem to grow out of odd places--thus explaining their jagged, unkempt appearance; Gaargl's concentration was disrupted by his injuries, resulting in improper repair to his armor.A noise in the dark breaks it entirely, prompting both beings to look around for the source. There is nothing there, save for the sound of faint hissing...------------The dark being shrank back--it seemed there was little friendship between the two strains of the sons of Makuta. For now, the being relented and withdrew, the attention of the Turahk that had ambushed it drawn by the movement in the illumination of the lightstone. As the dark being drew nearer to the den, its--or rather, their--thoughts were, for the first time in a long time, unrelated to basic needs.The den. The Lesterin. The Moon. Sleep. The images were disjointed, but the host knew it was from excitement, not inexperience--and he had been linked to the parasite long enough to recognize their meaning anyhow. He shuddered again--this time too strongly to be suppressed. He sent a message back: 'Fear. Retreat.'Glee. Wickedness. Chains.The host crawled into the den and curled its limbs around itself. It could not suppress its thoughts, could not hide them from the parasite even if it wanted to. 'Fear. Death? A sword suspended by thread, dangling above the neck.'The parasite's thoughts were soothing--irritated, but somehow still soporific. Sleep. Peace. The Le-Matoran. Prey.The host nodded, drifting off to sleep. It did no good to argue, and besides, what would it hurt to agree?He needed food just as much as any other Matoran.------------"Ah, mahi, but you really should look how you use that thing...," Mars sighed facetiously, keeping with the nickname she had decided best fit the Lesterin. "Your armor is a tumor and you its host, as long as you use that staff in such a foolish way. Of course, who's to say you can change that..."Gaargl coughed again. "Not much of a choice. No supplies...and many dangers underground. Have to...survive. For...their sake.""I suppose."Mars nodded slightly. She supposed she could not understand the sentiment of the Lesterin regarding his wish to carry on for his comrades' sake, regularly being without others, but she had seen it many a time before within regular Ussalmatoran. She had dedicated herself to Duty and not Unity, rarely seeking company of any kind, and so she didn't bond with many other people. She truly detested few persons. On the other hand, it was exceedingly rare that she talked to any--With a blood-curdling hiss, the Turahk leaped from the darkness at the pair of conversing sapients with staff lunging for the matoran's abdomen. Mars smirked at the sight. At last. Her hands reflexively shot to her tomahawks, drawing her two blades. In a millisecond they flew before the staff, crossed for additional leverage, and blocked it. Mars' visage flickered to gritted teeth as she stood against the overwhelming force. Then her expression returned to a smirk. Leaving one tomahawk to continue catching the staff alone, she lunged forwards with the other, intending to cleave the creature's head from its body. But her slice only managed to open its throat. Her eyes widened at the realization of her failure, and as she noted the Turahk's speed to be higher than other Rahkshi, its staff whipped around and blasted her with its power. The assassin crumpled to the ground. Another heartbeat after the duel of milliseconds, the Turahk turned to hiss at Gaargl, staff brandished in both arms as it prepared to attack...Gaargl held his staff in front of him in a defensive posture, but the Turahk swung its own staff low, clubbing the Lesterin in the face with his own weapon. The followup strike sent him flying, and he bounced off the wall and the floor with two sharp cracks.Normally this was the part of the fight where Gaargl would concentrate his mental energy into activating his staff, his battered armor taking blow after blow while repairing itself until some other threat distracted the Rahkshi long enough to get away. However, concentration requires one to be conscious, something Gaargl wasn't at the moment. He lay where he fell, helpless, as the Rahkshi advanced for a killing blow...Even as the bolt of Fear hit her, even as her darkest terrors sprang from nightmare to the forefront of her mind, even as she fell before the weight of dozens of those fears, Mars smirked.The only thing she had ever known to be worthy of being feared was herself. There was only one power she, a mere matoran, could ever control, and that was the power of her soul. She may have used tomahawks, chakrams, and balisongs in battle, but they were but appliances of a greater ability. That ability was her decision to make decisions. With the responsibility of her own life came its strength. As with all in the Ussalry, the strength of her life--her Prosperity--was a weapon she treasured more than any blade. Blades couldn't convert information into damage. But her mind could. Scientia est potentia was her creed. Knowledge is power. What a given being didn't know could hurt he, she, or it. For example, Mars considered, if a Turahk didn't know that its Kraata power alone could not cow an attacking Ussalmatoran, it would find itself soon faced by said Ussalmatoran returning to finish the fight as it distracted itself with another enemy. The Rahkshi would be pestered by its lack of information regarding the capabilities of military persons in the surprise assault. The Ussalmatoran, meanwhile, would be able to pester such a creature with little trouble as it hit and ran. But a better example still might be found had the Ussalmatoran previously damaged the Rahkshi so as to leave it confident in its ability to yet emerge victorious, but lethal when presented with another strike. Mars believed this latter case would make the pestering of a matoran more irksome as the Rahkshi was forced to fight or die. However, in this case, the Ussalmatoran was still able to attack only with her two held weapons. The Rahkshi would easily be able to block such strikes and rebuff its assailant.Now, what if that Ussalmatoran also has other weapons within reach which she can use in conjunction with her other weapons in rapid succession?, Mars thought. She smirked again, silently unclasping the sheath around her wrist with two fingers as her scope zoomed in on the Makuta-spawn's back. She was about to find out.As the Turahk's staff blurred into the air above, ready to deliver a final blow to the Lesterin and head off with its meal of two, Mars threw both her tomahawks towards its spine. To the Rahkshi's credit, it recognized both that the whistling sounds of two chucked blades were those of weapons capable of braining its Kraata and that the confines of the tunnel prevented it from dodging. So it spun, staff deflecting the axes with all the deft movement of the machine it was built to be...And a more subtly launched ring of protosteel cleaved through the hole in its neck and into its slug's spine.The creature shuddered horribly, staff spasming in its death throes, then collapsed in a heap of blood and metal.Mars got up and retrieved her weapons, cleaning them idly. She sheathed her collection of pointed objects and looked now to the Lesterin named..."Garbage"? "Gargle"? Gaargl. A mahi, indeed, if a decent one. He's weak at the moment, but he'll be up and running soon enough.The matoran picked up the Turahk's staff and slipped it between her pack and armor. She'd need it where she was going. These days, the staffs were more obtainable, but each still retained its ability to validate the pro-Koro alignment of its wearer. She clipped her lightstone to her scope for illumination. Then she grasped Gaargl and lifted him from the ground. She nodded at the sensation. Although he was a Lesterin, he was critically malnourished, and she could tell what little weight he possessed was primarily due to his overgrown armor. She need not drag his body through the Dark Walk.At last, the mismatched duo of small assassin and tall repairman turned and began to walk towards Le-Koro. Only one thought was on Mars' mind as she carried the unconscious Lesterin to safety: Amazing what you can do when you relax a few assumptions.OOC: Thanks again, Mr. Peanuts! Mars and Gaargl to Le-koro, Gaargl open for interaction in the Le-koro hospital. If any evil-aligned characters want to interact with ??? (so he can get a proper introduction), PM me. ;)


 

Me: *has idea*

Blade: "I'd say too convoluted, and I know too convoluted =P"

 

"Dangit, I shouldn't have gotten ambitious."

--Merc, RE: our plotting

 

Pokémon Rise of the Rockets Profiles: LINK

3DS FC: 3625-9584-9417 (Pokemon X Friend Safari: Electric-type, Pachirisu, Electabuzz, Zebstrika)

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OOC: Flipz, if you think I'm gonna read that... :P Thanks for the offer, though.

 

IC: Tafu

 

Tafu looked toward the Temple with distaste. He had seen the two figures he had "conversed" with. The Toa was friendly enough, but was caught up fighting. Tafu had watched him and the others decend into the Mangaia. Maybe this isn't the right place for at the moment. Tafu thought.

 

OOC: Off to Le-Koro.

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IC:

 

Legends need not to be grand in order to be remembered. Likewise, places of legend do not need to be monuments to tell a story. The Amaja Nui was one such place, even though it had not been used by the elders for a while...which did not stop it from telling stories. The winds had moved the sands in the circle of stories and had shifted in a way that the black, jagged stone at its center had toppled over. Yet the six smaller stones around it still remained upright.

 

The figure standing at the edge of the circle studied the scenery with impassive eyes, his long cloak hanging from under his shoulder-armor moving slightly in the wind, while otherwise remaining still. It had taken one grain of sand in the end to topple the obsidian. And just like it had changed the story, even the lowliest villager could change the course of history - for good...or for ill.

 

And that's where we come in... the figure thought.

 

Just that moment a shaft of sunlight hit the Amaja circle. He glanced upward. The weather had changed in the past two days over this part of the island. Thick grey clouds had rolled in on a strong wind, bringing along heavy rainfall. The opening between the clouds above him was the first sign that the dull grey would pass soon.

 

His peripheral vision caught a slight movement to his right and his head snapped back down. His hand was already halfway up and about to reach for his scythe-staff. But he stopped himself and lowered it again. He looked at the other figure. He did not wear a cloak, allowing his thick armor and powerful arms to show, but his face was obscured by the shadow of a hood.

 

"Aparangi." he greeted the other.

 

"Directly going for the scythe when I arrive...or were you expecting somebody else, Tupua?" Aparangi asked.

 

Tupua's face remained frozen, but his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. "No, just you. Which is precisely the reason I reached for the scythe."

 

"I am glad that we get along this well, brother." Aparangi replied dryly.

 

A strong breeze blew over the area, making trees lean and their leaves rustle. But one of the natural sounds was not like the other. The two Toa looked at each other. "She's here." Aparangi said.

 

From a low branch above, another armored and hooded figure dropped into the clearing. She landed on the ground with a soft thud and no other sound, before standing back to her full height. She was lithe and well-proportioned, but a closer look at her athletic form hinted at the amount of strength within her. In addition, the retractable claws on her hands and feet left no doubt that she knew how to use it as well.

 

She looked at the other two with a sly smile. "Brothers." she greeted them.

 

"Rewera." Aparangi said and nodded. Tupua continued to maintain his stoic silence. Rewera glanced back over her shoulder and gave a bird-like whistle. Behind her, what looked like a living tree-trunk began to move. However, it turned out to be another Toa, in black armour like the rest, except he was considerably larger than the others. Next to him, another, smaller shape separated itself from the shadows that had hidden them and followed.

 

"Kehua and I picked up Mariko on the way here." Rewera explained.

 

The five Toa formed up around the Amaja circle. Tupua, being the one who had called for the meeting, spoke up then. "Brothers, sister, I have called for this meeting to discuss our course of action. A necessity, since we are still here, despite Makuta's defeat. Despite the greatest shadow on the island being gone, we were not moved to another place...which can only mean one thing..."

 

"Obviously. Taipo is still missing. We're not done here yet." Rewera cut in. The others nodded. Aparangi took a step forward.

 

"Far from it, actually." he said. "And Taipo is not the only thing keeping us here. Something's happened..."

 

 

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IC

 

'Come on. It's better to walk fast than to linger now that we're down here. The central atrium shouldn't be that far, and we'll be able to find the Po-Koro Dark Walk easily. They would follow, but as long as we keep up a light source and keep walking, most will just stare hard.'

GT: Jl1223 X <----add me :3


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BZPRPG Profiles 2013

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IC: Kiron"That way," I pointed. A tunnel with a carving marked Po-Wahi led off to the right. Another confused Rahkshi wandered past. We quickly followed the tunnel.Nothing showed that we were on the right path, until ten minutes later. The tunnel led into the main Po-Wahi Dark Walk and we squeezed past a crevice to make it through.We continued forward. It was then that I realised that I no longer felt the cold, but I did start to feel an oppressive heat.OOC: JL, Jarkale and Kiron to Po-Wahi.

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  • 3 weeks later...

IC:

In the past of nowhere, one encountered the other.

 

You are here, once again.

 

Yes.

 

It is as I foresaw, and as I anticipated.

 

Yes, and it is as I expected: you are smug.

 

I welcome you. Your return has brought me joy.

 

You are too self-righteous to acknowledge the stirring of your spirit - what you call joy - as the relish of conquest.

 

Have I again become your mirror?

 

Your joy does not surprise me; you like to feel me suffer.

 

I never like suffering, even if it is yours. No, you misunderstand: my joy is the joy of liberation. The people I love are, at last, free.

 

Indeed, they are… free.

 

You seem humored.

 

Their freedom, above all else, assures me that your joy shall be as short-lived as the tide.

 

Joy lives long in my heart, and in the sky.

 

Joy lives only until it encounters despair. The sky, weighted by night, cannot support itself. Every setting of the sun, the sky dies at the hands of darkness, and so dies joy.

 

Yet, the stars shine.

 

The stars are dead.

 

Do you believe I have reason to despair?

 

You have more reason than even I.

 

I sleep yet.

 

Yes.

test2.png

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IC: (Jorruk Yokin/Amaja-Nui/Kini-Nui)

 

Jorruk Yokin hastily snuck into the land of decayed temples of Mata Nui and his enemy. The air was humid and obviously boiling hot. He was here not to prowl the bowels of Mangaia. Nor was he here to pray to the Great Spirit. The Steward of the Brotherhood of Ak'rei'an was here to find a target for future demolition. The Suva-Kaita was closed off, and no amount of explosives would destroy it. The same with Mangaia. But there was one area that remained vulnerable.

 

The Amaja Nui.

 

The circle the recently deceased Turaga told their stories at and the circle that they legendarily summoned the Toa of old. It was, in his and Larikon's vision of the world, a foul heathen monument. Where the false elders spouted their false tales of the Great Spirit. It's destruction would tell the people of Mata Nui Ak'rei'an's power, and have them fear his Brotherhood. It was an excellent plan.

 

Now, he had to find photothermic powder. And lots of it.

Edited by Mr. House
I occasionally return to BZP for a nostalgic trip back. Hit me up on discord if you need anything. 
 
BZPRPG Characters that I will possibly revive, Mons-Shajs-Tarotrix-Aryll Vudigg-Jorruk Yokin-Senavysh Angavur

 

 

 

 

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

IC:

 

Cold eyes watched the being who had recently come near the Amaja Nui, the man who owned the pair debating whether or not to capture the being - in the end, he decided against it. Instead, he stepped up to the Amaja Nui himself, after the Le-Toa left, and dropped his pack and weapons; from the former, he pulled out a small bag, full of various stones, which he proceeded to arrange amongst the circle.

 

"And so the mystery was solved," the figure began, speaking to himself. "The old Toa had been turned to the side of shadow...following the Makuta." Set around a large, dark stone were six smaller, in a v-shape. "But new Toa came." First, a ruby, then a sapphire, cloudy quartz, then onyx, jade, and a chocolate diamond.

 

"The old Toa fought, but were defeated..." he flicked aside the few smaller dark stones. "And so the Makuta, himself, was defeated, falling to the new heroes." The figure speaking reached out, flicking over the largest midnight-black stone. After a moment, the being removed his hood, revealing the face of a Toa - and after that, he began chuckling, as though the Makuta's defeat were some manner of personal joke to him.

 

"Well, Old Scratch, looks like you never got what you wanted, eh?" The Toa chuckled some more, before moving back to the main temple, his items brought with him - once there, he sat down to rest, and meditate, to decide on where he would go to next. Soon enough, however, he decided upon Le-Wahi - a place he hadn't been to in a while. Gathering up the items he had brought with him, he quickly set out.

 

OOC: Do I even need to say it.

Edited by The Otter

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

IC:

Even nowhere holds spirit.

The sea stirs.

 

Yes. The waves are an ever-flexing image of the sky, and they shimmer with its blue happiness.

 

The sea is darker than its surface. The depths hold the true nature of the endless water. In blackness, hurricanes are born as subtle currents.

 

You stir the depths.

 

I must, for you have reduced me to subtle currents.

 

Such currents are immaterial, for my people are not a sea.

 

Do not delude yourself. Each of them is a drop of water in an ocean as corporeal as the looking-glass of the clouds.

 

Drops of water do not dream, or love; they have no freedom against the tides.

 

Your people's freedom is a tide, and it shapes as readily to my touch as dark waters do.

 

Peace yet endures.

 

This is but the calm before my storm breaks upon the beaches of your precious island. The first ripples already wash ashore.

 

You have great faith in your currents.

 

Yes.

 

Though I slumber, my influence lives on.

 

Even the smallest currents are still beyond your power. Of what influence do you speak?

 

My dormant hands are not without fingers.

 

Your fingers betray you, then; they bend to the soft influence of my waves on the sea floor.

 

A wave on the sea floor tosses up sand. My champions are not blind.

 

In that case, they are excellent imitators.

 

You still hold rage towards them.

 

Does this surprise you?

 

It does not. Rage is no stranger to your voice.

 

Rage is power.

 

Rage is blindness. You are welcome to embrace it.

 

The sea holds more than water and memories of the heavens. It also holds monsters.

 

Do you mean to intimidate me? I do not fear you.

 

You do not fear harm, but you fear harm to those you love. I have my own fingers, champions.

 

My people are strong.

 

My fingers shall be a vice.

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